


Yuletide Epilogue epilogue

by freddiejoey



Category: Arthur of the Britons
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-31
Updated: 2011-08-31
Packaged: 2017-10-23 06:56:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/247451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freddiejoey/pseuds/freddiejoey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's still Yuletide in the longhouse</p>
            </blockquote>





	Yuletide Epilogue epilogue

In the pearly cerise light of dawn, the frozen lake glimmers like burnished pewter. Behind the long house an enterprising rooster gives a desultory crow and then tucks his head back under his wing. Inside the stables the horses whinny softly, frustrated at another glacial day of forced enclosure.

Arthur wakes first, bleary-eyed and cocooned in blissful warmth. He stretches and a low moan of vexation escapes him as his taut muscles protest. Rising on his elbows, he gazes around at the familiar surroundings. Everything looks absolutely the same as on any prosaic winter morning. His sword stands sentry by the bed, ready to be snatched up and employed with lethal precision. Across the room, Llud snores lustily, sleeping off the last of Olwen’s mellow honeyed mead. The cold is so intense it is almost palpable.

Yet everything is utterly different. For one thing, most of his hair is gone – tentatively Arthur runs his fingers through its spiky remnants and then carefully prods the slit of his scalp wound. It is tender and still throbbing steadily. Arthur doesn’t want to think about the condition of his face. The bruises will soon be tawny-coloured so that he better stay well away from the younger village children lest he strikes terror into them and makes them wail. He will be particularly careful to avoid the shrill Gobnat’s cherubs– she who would have sentenced Elka and Krist to a watery grave and permanently segregated the Wood People’s offspring.

For another thing, every sinew in his body seems to ache and pulse. Gingerly, Arthur bends one of his legs under its heaped covering of fleeces and grimaces at the spasm of pain that shoots up into his thigh. He must learn sooner rather than later to stop being such a moonstruck simpleton…………………….

And on the subject of simpletons……………….for a third different wondrous thing………….Arthur gazes at his sleeping brother lying entangled beside him and it is not the gelid cold that takes his breath away. He is suffused with gratitude and relief. But, if his heart is full, so, he thinks ruefully, is his bladder.

Arthur slips out of bed, heedful not to rouse Kai and, wrapped in a thick woollen cape, goes though into the main room of the longhouse. Elsa, round now with child, has come up from her husband’s homestead to perform the day’s domestic duties. She turns with a welcoming smile that dies on her lips as she surveys Arthur’s damaged face and shorn head. “And what does your combatant look like?” Arthur gives a self-effacing grin. “Much as usual I would say since it was a stable beam. This will teach me to take too much mead and then flounder around in the dark.” Elsa returns to stirring a cauldron of fragrant oat porridge that is bubbling serenely over the hearth fire. “You’re going to earn more than your fair share of goading from the rest of the village, you know, and it will be well deserved.” Elsa speaks tartly to mask her concern. “Oh, I’m certain of it.” Arthur winks at her and wraps a cape around his head for protection against the bitter winter wind.

He manages to visit the privy and return without encountering anyone other than a pair of equally-muffled sleepy farm hands on their way to feed the stabled cattle. They mumble an inaudible greeting and hurry into the warmth of the byre. When he returns to the longhouse, Kai is sitting at the table, laughing with Elsa and complimenting her extravagantly on the heavenly qualities of her porridge. “Ah, little brother”. He puts a finger under Arthur’s chin and tilts his face upwards. “You must learn how to be friendlier to those stable beams.” The touch of Kai’s finger makes Arthur shiver. His knees buckle and he sits down abruptly. Elsa sees him stumble and misinterprets the cause. “Be careful, you mustn’t tire yourself Arthur.” She hands him a steaming wooden bowl of porridge. “Eat up”, she bullies gently. Obediently he consumes a heaped spoonful. Kai is right. Elsa’s porridge is divine.

She moves back to the hearth and Kai looks at his brother, eyebrows raised in question. “How do you feel?” Arthur murmurs. “As if I’ve survived half a dozen wrestling bouts with Mark and lost them all conclusively. You?” “The same.” They grin at each other in wry collusion.

After breakfast, while Llud sleeps soundly on, Kai goes to help in the forge – sure that he’ll be entirely ineffectual in his present ramshackle state but thankful for the warmth – and Arthur prepares to carry out his usual morning inspection of the village. “Time to make the walk of derision.” Elsa looks up from where she is busily chopping vegetables for the midday meal. “Emulate Rolf and think of it as a penance. Oh, and if you want to ward off the worst raillery, take care to avoid my husband.”

It is as fully vexing as he had expected- and in fact worse. The villagers recognize that one thing their chieftain does not lack is a self-deprecating sense of humour and now they take glorious advantage. Arthur knows the jibes and baiting are affectionate - the idea of the mead-addled leader of the Celts coming to grief in a skirmish with a stable beam is no doubt very droll – but less amusing is the bleak wind that whips around his unusually exposed ears. By the time Arthur returns to the longhouse he is slightly galled. At least Kai had had the grace to refrain from joining in the blacksmith Padraic’s bantering – even if his lips had twitched suspiciously once or twice. And of course Elsa was correct – the trader’s buffoonery was the most ingenious and even retorting that “Yes, my hair will grow back soon enough, but not your wits” seems scant recompense.

Arthur is pouring himself a fortifying goblet of mead when Olwen’s cheerful face appears around the door. Llud is just emerging from the bedroom, looking rather wan and pallid, but at the sight of Olwen he glows. “Olwen, come in. I’ll just have to………….” But Olwen interrupts him with a kindly smile. “Actually, I’ve come to see Arthur, poor love and bring him this.” She hands Arthur a fleecy cap, fashioned from the softest sheep skin. “Here, I make these for my children. It will help keep your poor head warm while your wound heals.” “My thanks.” Arthur pulls the cap well down over his icy ears, his good humour fully restored. “I will wear it with pride.” Now it is Olwen’s turn to glow. She has reached the door when Kai pushes through it, bringing a chill gust of wind with him, and then collapses into loud guffaws of laughter. “Oh little brother, you make such an angelic piskie.” He subsides, still chuckling, into a chair and winces as his aching muscles demur. Llud stomps to the hearth and, in an obviously ill-tempered way, slops some of Elsa’s porridge into a bowl. “What’s the trouble?” Kai mouths to Arthur behind Llud’s back. “Sore head, I think”, he mouths back. “Are we going to be properly prepared to negotiate when Hereward and Dirk come imploring and scheming tomorrow?” Llud flings the question fractiously over his shoulder. “Of course.” Arthur’s tone is placatory. “There are a few more details to finalise however and I would welcome your ideas tonight.” Llud snorts, throws his sons an affronted glance and clomps outside, taking his porridge with him.

They eat their midday meal with Elsa, offering her grandiose endorsements of her vegetable stew, devising nonsensical names for her coming child. They reassure her that their father will return later, in a much improved frame of mind, contrite because of his earlier outburst. By the time, they have had second helpings and she is clearing the table, they are both ravenous for something other than Elsa’s concoctions, no matter how delectable. Elsa returns to her home for a few hours to palliate the trader, promising to be back to prepare the evening meal. Llud, they assume, is attempting to cool his pique by enjoying an afternoon dalliance with Olwen. Arthur goes to tell the door sentry not to admit anyone – “My brother and I need peace to discuss our northern defences.” Kai is still laughing as Arthur comes into the bedroom and bars the door. “Is that what we’re calling it these days?” It feels exhilarating to be so confident, so at ease with each other. Kai sits on the edge of his bed and pulls off his boots. “Padraic works you hard in that forge. Between that and our foolhardy efforts in the stable last night, I don’t know how much use I will be to you, my Arthur.” He shakes his head. “I’m just so stiff.” “Literally.” Arthur grins impishly. “Oh.” Kai’s wide brown eyes follow the direction of Arthur’s mischievous gaze. “Yes, but I’m still not sure that I’m up to much right now little brother.” Arthur’s wicked smile broadens as he loosens Kai’s breeches. “Actually, from my perspective, big brother, you’re up for plenty.” And he hungrily lowers his mouth to Kai’s cock.

Afterwards it all seems so uproariously funny – Kai’s intermingled cries of pain and gratification as his writhing still-aching body succumbs to Arthur’s questing tongue, the way Arthur teasingly peers at him from under the brim of his ludicrous fleece cap, anxiously enquiring if he is causing too much discomfort and should stop, Kai’s vehement groan of denial…………………

Llud reappears as Elsa is setting the evening meal on the table. He looks cold and still wears a cantankerous expression; clearly the interlude with Olwen has not yielded the expected results. Arthur and Kai are innocuously discussing the Celts’ northern defence deficiencies, a large parchment spread before them. Esla bides them good night with a weary smile. Kai playfully blows her a kiss. “You’re a rare girl Elsa. See you tomorrow.” She is blushing prettily as she walks back through the wintry darkness to her homestead and the trader’s solicitous attentions. As they eat, Arthur asks Llud’s advice on a few strategic matters, trying to dispel his father’s peevishness, but Llud will not be drawn, answering in monosyllables. Finally, Arthur rolls up the parchment. “Well, I believe we’re all ready for Hereward and Dirk’s mendacity tomorrow.” He catches Kai’s eye. “After all, we’ve been discussing our northern defences most of the afternoon.” Once begun, their chortling refuses to be stifled. Kai howls with laughter until tears stream down his face. Arthur is convulsed in his chair, unable to speak coherently. For Llud, irascible since the morning, it is the final provocation. “You are acting in a more puerile fashion than when you were a pair of silly striplings. What are you going to do tomorrow, sit there in that absurd fleece cap you seem so fond of and laugh at Dirk and Hereward?” Arthur stares at his father fixedly. “Well, I don’t see why not. Hereward always arbitrates in that comical hood that he thinks betokens holiness.” This sends Kai into fresh paroxysms of glee. “And anyway,” Arthur continues “ Maybe Hereward’s verbosity will respond favourably to a bit of piskie magic.” Llud looks thunderous. “You’ve traded being a lovesick goat for a jester. I trust you will have regained better control of your faculties by tomorrow.” Llud snatches up his cloak and a jug of mead and stalks angrily out into the night.

Kai bites his lip and looks up at Arthur, a little shamefaced. “I think we just went somewhat too far in badgering our father. Should one of us go after him?” “No, leave him be. You know how intractable he is once he gets a notion entrenched in his head.” Kai gives a devilish smile. “Yes, a bit like someone else around here.” Arthur rolls his eyes. “ But Llud knows full well that I will give my whole attention to Hereward and Dirk’s lamentations. Llud also knows that we already have complete knowledge of what strategies they should be employing and that it will simply be a matter of convincing them that our tactical ideas are really their own.” Just for a heartbeat, Kai hears a flash of something less than conciliatory in Arthur’s voice. He is acutely aware that his brother prides himself on his discretion and foresight when negotiating with the other wily Celtic chieftains. The implication that he might not be thoroughly prepared has touched a raw nerve.

Then the moment passes. Arthur grins like a provocative elf. “I think, my Kai, that we should go to bed early tonight. We have a long tiring day of parleying ahead of us tomorrow with many serious matters to resolve so we wouldn’t want to be drowsy. Llud’s obviously taken himself off to drink with his cronies and tell tall tales. Dirk and his men will need to use Brother Amlodd’s hut tomorrow night and the good brother will have to be accommodated here with us. Therefore, I think we must go straight to bed right now and fasten the bar across the door.” He cups Kai’s face tenderly in one hand. “Besides, its bloody deathly cold and I need to get warm.” Kai grins wickedly back. “Little brother, you’ve just read my mind.”

The next morning dawns bright and clear and glacial. Llud stalks in to break his fast soon after daybreak to find both his sons already seated at the table, busily eating Elsa’s delicious barley bread generously spread with honey and refining their final negotiation stratagems. They both appear suitably sombre and orderly. Kai is looking particularly resplendent in his purple shirt and a luxurious cloak of white and ebony pelts, his new Yuletide axe swinging from his belt. Under his thick black fur cape, Arthur wears his brother’s blue shirt that makes his eyes an even deeper azure. Leni has already been to cleanse his scalp wound and his short dark hair smells sweetly of the gillyflowers that she uses to perfume her healing emollients. In fact, surveying them hawk-eyed, Llud can find nothing to reprove in either their demeanour or appearance. He thuds into the bedroom to change his own clothes, seemingly chagrined because Arthur actually isn’t sporting his fleecy cap. It is a good thing that he doesn’t spy the triumphant wink that Kai gives his brother.

Llud is still devouring bread and honey when Dirk and Hereward and their attendants come clattering into the village. Greetings are exchanged and the mead cups handed around. Hereward and Dirk stare openly at Arthur’s mottled face and denuded head, but manage to abstain from making enquiries until Arthur himself jokingly provides them with a farcical explanation. Then the negotiations open and Llud once again marvels at his chieftain son’s rapier sharp mind and composure – even if today the marvelling is undertaken somewhat begrudgingly. Throughout the day, Kai sits at his brother’s side, purposeful and formidable. Dirk attempts his usual shifty connivances and Hereward achieves his accustomed feat of using ten ostentatious expositions when one brief statement would have sufficed; but as the heavy winter darkness begins to blanket the afternoon light, both make their marks on a new treaty. Shrewd diplomacy and good sense have prevailed.

As evening deepens and the soft ice crystals glitter on the lake, Kai walks back from checking on the horses who are snuffling contentedly in their warm stalls. Down by the palisade gate he spies Llud and Olwen, their foreheads pressed together, enveloped in Llud’s voluminous grey cloak. Returning to the longhouse, Kai murmurs the news to Arthur. He is amicably debating Christian doctrine with Brother Amlodd, amid the babble and clamour of Dirk, Hereward and their men preparing to feast and drink themselves into oblivion. Arthur mischievously strokes Olwen’s fleece cap that he is once more wearing at a rakish angle. “See, piskie magic at work. Even Llud can’t resist it.” He studies Brother Amlodd, his eyes dancing with affection. “Ah Brother, yet another theological polemic for us to dissect…………..”

It is near midnight when Llud notices that his sons are starting to look weary and peaked. The last week has been enervating for both mind and body. Well, he may have been a peevish old goose for the past few days, but it is time now to carry out a bit of mending and redressing on his own behalf. The solicitous father in him surfaces and within half an hour, Hereward, Dirk and their attendants have been firmly despatched to the guest quarters. The longhouse is in disarray, but all the straightening and clearing can wait until the morrow. Llud dismisses the last of the serving women and tells them not to hurry back in the morning - Dirk, Hereward and the others will surely sleep late after such a surfeit of fine food and mead.

Only Arthur and Kai are left at the table now, with Brother Amlodd dozing benevolently beside the hearth fire. Llud comes and sits down, facing his two sons. Resolutely he clears his throat. “ Firstly, I must say how intensely proud I was of you both today - so intensely proud to be your father. Secondly, I must proffer you my apologies. I have been short- tempered and brusque without proper cause. However Olwen set me straight tonight – told me that I should be grateful for my many blessings and of course, my greatest blessings are you pair of scoundrels. Everything will be better tomorrow I promise.” He gives a muffled cough and goes to rise. Kai puts a restraining hand on his father’s arm. “What has really been troubling you?” His brown eyes are compassionate. Llud shakes his head and laughs whimsically. “Too much mead and not enough horse sense.” Arthur’s voice is kind but obdurate. “No Llud. The real reason”. Llud sits back down and thoughtfully strokes his chin. “The last year or more has been so full of turmoil, full of breaking and healing – and that’s just been inside this longhouse.” He smiles gently. “I think I’ve sometimes felt like one of the children who follow the sowers in spring, throwing stones at the crows if they try to steal the scattered grain. That all I was good for was showering stones in the wake of your troubles, cleaning up and setting right. But I know that’s not really true. I simply had too much Yuletide mead, awoke like a sullen bear with a sore head and what is the first thing that I see – Olwen fluttering around here not on my account but because Arthur was suffering from cold ears. Since then I’ve just been wallowing in a flood of self-pity and let me warn you, Olwen will give you short shrift if you try to garner sympathy for any form of self-indulgence. A wise woman that one – a woman in a thousand. As she reminded me in quite a snappish way tonight, the ancients believed that we need two things for our sanity – love and work – and she left me in no doubt that I am lucky enough to possess an abundance of both. It is up to me not to lose faith in them.”

Silently Kai covers his father’s clasped hands with his own. Arthur blinks furiously. Llud returns Kai’s pressure on his hands and pats Arthur’s shoulder. Then he straightens his back and stands up. The brief bout of sentimentality is over and the pragmatic warrior is firmly back in place. “Here I am, rattling on like addle-pated old man.” He beams benignly at the dozy Brother Amlodd. “Speaking of which, perhaps it’s time for us to seek our beds. You have a hard journey home tomorrow Brother and the hoar frost does not seem inclined to loosen its grip.” Brother Amlodd rises and nods at Arthur and Kai. “So kind of you young men to give up your beds for me. So kind to be thinking of my comfort before your own.” “Not at all Brother,” murmurs Kai, a mischievous smile playing about his lips. He goes into the sleeping chamber and emerges with an armful of bedding. Kneeling before the hearth he fashions the fleeces and blankets into a warm nest. “Arthur and I will do very well here” Kai says, his face a picture of angelic innocence. Arthur turns away to hide his knowing grin.

Brother Amlodd serenely returns Kai’s smile. “Then my thanks again and I wish you all a very good night.” He totters happily into the bedroom. Llud follows him, then turns back at the door. “Now remember, the good Brother is our guest. He is a holy man and may be alarmed by certain things that would not, ahem, unsettle me so easily. He looks pointedly at Arthur. “Your one God has already given you ample gifts this Yuletide. You can surely repay him with a modicum of seemly behaviour.” His steely gaze fixes on Kai. “And I expect you to act like the responsible elder brother I brought you up to be.” Llud gives them one last penetrating stare and retires to the bedroom. They hear the bar fall into place and lock the door from the inside.

Left alone, Kai settles down comfortably in front of the hearth and pulls Arthur’s head down into his lap. For a while, they lay in contented silence, the warmth of the fire and their bodies intermingling. Then, even through the thick fleece of his cap, Arthur can feel the heat and tumult of Kai’s kindling passion. He looks up playfully and traces the outline of Kai’s face with a languid finger. “So just how responsible are you prepared to be tonight big brother?” Kai grins. “Oh, totally little brother. For a start, I’m going to ensure that you are sleeping like a chaste piskie on the other side of the hearth by the time Brother Amlodd stumbles out at cock crow. But until then, all bets are off and you know, better than most, what an optimistic gambler I am” And still grinning, he covers Arthur’s mouth with his own.


End file.
